Senses
by chaos-naga
Summary: Sometimes, all you need are your five senses.
1. Touch

**Warnings:** a bit of A.U.

**Rating:** T

**Length:** 226 words

**Summary:** Jail was never meant for her. He needed her.

**Touch**

He watches them drag her out of the cell, her body bruised with torture. The sides of his mouth slightly turn up in memory. She had not gone without a fight, and it had been a fierce one. That was just like her. But they eventually captured her. They always did.

He watches them ungraciously deposit her at his feet. She gently pulls on his shirt to raise herself up to his level; he crouches down to hers. He slowly, carefully, wraps his arms around her, as does she to him. He buries his face in her raven's wing black tresses, smudged with dirt, but still beautiful.

Their lips meet for the first time; they cling, deepening the kiss. He never wants to let her go, but he has to, eventually. She runs her fingers through his spiky, orange hair – the hair that had so captivated her since their first meeting.

Finally, they begin to pull her away. She claws at them, her shrieks of defiance echoing through the chamber. He tries to help, but is also restrained by others. He shouts with his pain, the volumes of both lovers' screams reaching the pinnacle.

"RUKIA!!" he screams at her, desperately reaching for her disappearing body.

"ICHIGO!!" she shrieks. "TASUKETE!" Her hands reach for his, and just for a moment, they touch.

And then she is gone.

**End**

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**tasukete –** help me

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Kaos does not own BLEACH.


	2. Taste

**Warnings:** sexual themes, and a bit of A.U.

**Rating:** T

**Length: **255 words

**Summary:** Nothing compares to the taste of his strawberry-kiss.

**Delicacy**

Soul Candy was yummy, she had decided back then, yummier than anything else in Soul Society and the mortal Earth. It even beat out juice-boxes (with those tricky straws) and ramen (damned three-minute wait). Even such delicacies as shark-fin soup (how horrible, killing the innocent, harmless sharks) or thousand-year eggs (odd, nii-sama hadn't mentioned any egg fermentation when he was last here) couldn't beat out Chappy Candy. Especially strawberry flavor – she'd have to thank Yachiru-_fukutaichou_ for the Women's Association's protests of the lack of flavor in the sweets.

And yet, as she sits there, she can't quite see how Chappy could compare to the wonderful, more-than-natural taste of his kiss. Funny, he tastes like strawberries. She supposes that the nervousness and tentative acceptance she feels on his body makes it all the sweeter.

Or perhaps, it is the forbiddance of it all that awakes her senses. He, though a shinigami, is also partially human – and Hollow. A combination of the three has never occurred before, but the strange amalgamation rests in the carrot-top, leaving her with chills all over from the taboo act of Kissing Him.

Through the pleasure, something darker lurks, and it saddens her beyond all measure of grief: she knows she and he may never be together. She is pure shinigami; he is human, Hollow, and shinigami. Such a pairing was unheard of, preposterous in even the mere theory. She knows this, but for now, she simply wants to enjoy the forbidden kiss.

After all, such a delicacy must never be wasted.

**End

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Kaos does not own BLEACH.


	3. Smell

**Warnings:** language

**Rating:** T

**Length:** 260 words

**Summary:** She smells like strawberries. Hey, that was _his_ shampoo.

**Shampoo**

"Rukia-chan, your hair smells nice!" The father is the first to notice, and Rukia smiles, hastily cramming books into the grey school-briefcase before the dash to Karakura High.

"Thank you," she simply and absentmindedly replies and the son watches the exchange, controlling himself.

He isn't sure exactly what he wants to control, but he's reached two decisions: the urge to spring on the father for harassing his Rukia, and the urge to spring on Rukia for using his shampoo. The damn father's being too damn perverted, and the damn strawberries just smell too damn good.

Come to think of it, when has Rukia been his? When has the damn _shampoo_ been his? Everyone in the family uses it, so why is he thinking so possessively? That isn't right: he has to look out for the family – he has to be a man. A man, he tells himself, a man. Manly men don't feel territorial over damn _shampoo_. But manly men do feel like that over women ... right? The son immediately feels guilty, knowing Rukia's indignant reaction to his possessiveness if he had bothered to voice it.

Whatever. She's leaving as soon as she recovers enough of her powers, and that's that. The son is not going to feel sad over her departure. He's going to be glad when the bitch leaves. Glad! Glad! Glad! Glad! _GLAD_, damn it all! But no matter how many times the son repeats it to himself, it never really does console him.

When she leaves, she will take away his soul and his shampoo.

**End

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Kaos does not own BLEACH.


	4. Hear

**Warnings:** sexual themes, one-sided love, and emo-like tendencies

**Rating:** T

**Length:** 343 words

**Summary:** In a way, cleavers did have to do with sheets.

**Rustle**

"Ichi-kun, I baked you a cake today!" The rival beams, her auburn-red tresses flying to catch up to her friend.

"What flavor?" Ichigo distractedly asks, anxious to go home. Valentine's Day has never been quite his cup of tea, what with girls giving damned chocolates like the plague. He takes a drink of water from a nearby fountain and turns, mouth full of water, just as the rival answers:

"Leek!" And with that, Ichigo spits out water all over the rival's face.

The shinigami can't keep herself from laughing, so she ducks into a supply closet and emerges out serious, over her laughing fit. She sees the rival and him walk away, the rival walking next to Ichigo. Almost instantly, her mirth disappears and the shinigami ducks back inside the closet.

She's seen that look before – the look he used to give her, until he had found the rival instead. She can't bear to see him give _that_ look to _her_. Instead, she will remember a better time. No, it's plural – she will remember better _times_.

As she walks home, the shinigami remembers when he had used to scare off her nightmares. Warm arms had used to encircle her at night, and then the sheets would rustle with their ardor. She knows that had been the only time when she hadn't had the nightmares. As she opens the door to her solitary apartment, she remembers how warm the sheets had been – what had been the color of the sheets?

As she goes inside the kitchen to prepare dinner, her eyes catch the shining edge of a cleaver. _His_ zanpakutou had been just like a cleaver, except bigger and deadlier. She can remember when he defended her with it, wrapped in those whispering sheets. Seriously, what was the color?

As the shinigami grips the handle of the knife, words worm their way out of her mouth, enchanting the blade as she pushes it into not her _gigai_, but her soul. The surroundings dim, and she finally remembers.

They had been red, red as blood.

**End

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Kaos does not own BLEACH.


	5. Sight

**Warnings:** sexual themes, and a bit of A.U.

**Rating:** T

**Length:** 339 words

**Summary:** Angst can't even be sedated with a bucket of ice.

**Gaze**

Sometimes, she wishes there was a bucket of ice she could dump on her head. That could, at the very least, calm her physical self, if not her emotions.

She can't look him in the eye anymore, not after what had happened when he came to Soul Society, covered in the blood of the Hollow that had killed him. Slowly, her fingers trail up the sides of her neck, feeling and imagining the red mark there – a sign of that night when she had tried to erase the memories. It was still there, after so long. She shivers, reliving the fire in his eyes and the surprising gentleness of his touch.

He walks into their office, and she quickly withdraws her hand to cover a rising blush.

She really wants that bucket of ice right now.

Subtlety's never been his strong point and he sometimes _– most of the time –_ regrets it.

Of course, it doesn't help that she always blushes when he enters their office. It just makes him more needful _– lustful –_ than he already is. His eyes flick to where she is and fleetingly _– hungrily –_ take in the curve of her body. She's no Orihime, but it's enough _– not enough at all –_ to sate him.

For now, that is.

She sits at the desk, reading reports from their division. Her darting eyes remind him of butterflies fluttering through the air, borne by merciful current. Paperwork flies everywhere as the eyes _– beautiful and deep as hell – _widen in concern and fear for his safety. The trembling hands that gently finger his bloody head and shoulders, searching for any wounds inflicted by the Hollow _– none, of course, he was past that weakness already –_ reach past the blood _– Hollow's blood –_ and uniform he wears to shake his very core. Virginal innocence _– he swears he'll change that someday –_ radiates off of her, and as he meets her gaze, both turn red in embarrassment.

It's been fifty years since he's entered Soul Society, but still nothing's happened between them.

And it kills him.

**End

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Kaos does not own BLEACH.


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